Friday, December 25, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
GJ: I think I'm going to throw up
E: No you aren't
GJ: Yes I am
E: No you are not
GJ: Where can I throw up? Wait, wait...my head might explode. I think my heart rate is 450.
E: I'll get you some juice
GJ: No. I don't want juice
E: I'll get you some
GJ: NO. I need to throw up (said in a very whiny voice)
E: Then throw up in the garbage (clearly not believing GJ)
GJ: I want to throw up in the toilet
GJ: Then I will throw up on your face
E: No. You are not going to throw up
GJ: Throwing up like a drunken frat boy in garbage can
E: I can't believe you threw up
GJ: Still throwing up AND shitting her pants
E: You didn't look like you were struggling
GJ: Still throwing up and thinking...the 70lbs of sweat on your floor and in my clothes and the fact that my face is the color of a beet did not indicate to you that I might be struggling????? How about the comment "I CANNOT DO ONE MORE LUNGE. I CANNOT. I WILL DIE. I'M DEAD..."
Monday, November 30, 2009
(1) It only gets worse once they're out; or
(2) You should plan on being late.
This Joo does not care to learn either of those fun facts; and, unless you experienced DAILY debilitating migraines during your pregnancy; and your sister spent the last trimester spraying spray glue up your nose; AND your mother was addicted to the cancer; YOU DO NOT KNOW KNOW THIS JOO'S PAIN.
Other than that, this Joo is glowing.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
1. The Piano Teacher - Janice Y.K. Lee (in large print)
2. The Littler Giant of Aberdeen County - Tiffany Baker
3. A Reliable Wife - Robert Goolrick
Also...A and her mom are TOTALLY into the SkippyJon Jones books by Judy Schachner. A little side memo. It is just stoopid to have a library card if you are going to acquire $35 late fees on a regular basis. Just go to the damn bookstore and buy the book in hardcover. And make sure it is a book about running that you have already read 15 times. GJ LOVES YOU EGL!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Poor B had to be dressed up like a bee and couldn't even crawl around in the suit. Too bad. Every year of B's life she will be a bee and to make it even more fun and creative she will wear the same bee suit her whole life. Imagine how fun the pictures will be. A was a zebra. Now GJ knows that is shocking, but please pick your jaw up off the ground. B also enjoys coloring an enormous, ridiculous pumpkin that her grandpa grew for her (and that is a dick face).
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
At T-64 days and counting, Bad Joo is not handy mending a fuse, tending the garden, digging weeds, sleeping through the night, managing not to cry at the drop of a hat, or explode at the tadpole (whose visit ends to today). Bad Joo can no longer see her feet, although she should be able to, since they're so motherfucking big. BJ cannot go 24 hours without a migraine. BJ cannot slouch and breathe at the same time. BJ cannot be nice. In general, BJ cannot impress upon the Internettes enough how very, very poorly she is performing in this pregnancy.
But most importantly, Bad Joo cannot go ten seconds without getting the ABSOLUTE CRAP kicked out of her by C. And when this Joo says, "ABSOLUTE CRAP", she means, "Passersby stop her on the street and say with frightful looks of horror on their faces, 'FOR THE LOVE OF COD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY, WOMAN, WHAT THE FUCE IS THAT ENORMOUS VIBRATING TUMOR PROTRUDING FROM YOUR RIBCAGE, AND WAS THAT YOUR LIVER THAT JUST SQUIRTED OUT OF YOUR SIDE?' before running away screaming."
When C is not busy pushing BJ's internal organs out of her pores, he enjoys hiccuping, doing the hustle, the Macarena, and acting like a silent, sweet baby anytime anyone touches her belly. Ah, what a joy this child will be. Even his father has taken to calling him "le petit con", which is French for, "SOMEBODY GET THIS FUCKER OUTTA HER AND GIVE ME BACK MY WIFE" or "the little asshole." This Joo forgets which.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Baby zebra got dropped off at school and B and GJ bombed around for the morning not wanting to get ready too early. The cluster fuck started around 2:30 when GJ had to actually shower, and dry her hair, and put on make up and get her children deloused. Then throw everyone in the car right around dinner time for B and then pick up daddy and then drive to a barn in the country. By the time the GJ household got there the girls were eating fries, GJ was cursing the girls, daddy, fries, the world, her fat rolls, Glenn Beck and other things. Pictures went fairly well. Jenna was of course accommodating to GJ's need to see the pics on the camera before she photoshopped all GJ's insecurities out of them. The girls did well. B was a little dicky, but for being hungry she did well. GJ had to doing some regulating of the baby zebra. It was pretty windy out and at one point GJ looked over and saw the baby zebra sniffing the wind. And then GJ saw her flap her mane around and had to immediately intervene by yelling "NO BABY ZEBRA". This outburst was met with a frown, but A was able to regain her composure. At the end GJ did allow her to pose it out all zebra style. Jenna was completely baffled by the zebra until GJ explained that it's like when a little boy thinks he is spider man. Of course not a dying spider man, but that is beside the point. Pics to follow.
Friday, October 16, 2009
As you fart around in my womb and kick my innards all to pieces, take a moment to reflect upon your upcoming birth. Yes, it is true that the naysayers out there pretend that babies should be born 40 weeks after the date of a mother's last menstrual period, but the naysayers are haters. Fat, lazy, slow, racist, dirty, stinky haters. You're better than they are. And faster.
Be born at 37 weeks.
Show your friends up. Let the world know who's boss. Come out in advance. Set trends. I know you can do it.
Actually, I wouldn't complain if you were out a few days ahead of 37 weeks.
It's been really great having you grow inside me. I've enjoyed the nausea, fatigue, unstoppable migraines, and other joys of pregnancy more than you'll ever know. And that thing you do with both feet, my bladder, and a copy of the Miranda rights in Spanish? Magical. However, my most fervent desire for you is that you not blindly follow the pack.
Say, 36 weeks.
This being said, I want you to be first and foremost a fat, healthy newborn, so don't rush out. Don't take this letter to mean that I want you to sacrifice your own health for my selfish comfort. I love you, and I can't wait to meet you.
I'm not doing anything December 2, if that works for you. Otherwise, the week before is pretty open. Just let me know.
Bad Momma Joo
Thursday, October 15, 2009
a dick to rub these flowers on. Actually GJ is getting sick of BJ loving the dick comment even more than GJ's OB and staff. It's all fun and games to dick around with someone on narcotics. These flowers, however, are spectacular. There is nothing better then cabbage or kale or whatever the hell that purple thing is. Put it in GJ's butt. GJ also received some darling flowers from her in-laws and her neighbor, the wonderful, god fearing, Miss Randi. Unlike BJ's flowers, Miss Randi's included a card that said she would be praying for GJ's speedy recovery. Bad Joo. Bad. The incision has sent nothing. Shocking. Such an attention hog. GJ's husband is back to work. You would have thought he was trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon by how fast he booked it out of the house this a.m. "I'M SO BUSY. I AM THE ONLY TAX ATTORNEY IN THE WORLD. THIS CORPORATION WILL FILE FOR BANKRUPTCY IF I DON'T GO TO WORK TODAY. THERE IS AN EMERGENCY. OMG. I HAVE TO FLY ON THE CORPORATE JET TO TELL PEOPLE THAT THE IRS WOULD NOT LIKE WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IMPORTANT. MAYBE IF I RUN TO WORK I WILL GET THERE FASTER THAN DRIVING. I AM SO FAST". Whatever. The GJ hubby did have a very impressive showing at the Chicago Marathon with a finishing time of 3:43. In case you would like more info on that just friend him on facebook.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Your baby's sweat glands are now functioning, which means that the little fuceur should get out and get a job. He can hear you and those around you, so take a few moments every day to curse him and the day you conceived him, whilst you badger your dirty foreigner to do your bidding. This is a good way to bond with baby. You may even be able to feel the baby kick the shit out of your bladder at the sudden noise of a pot hitting your partner's head! Your baby is now about 14 inches and weighs a around two pounds.
As your baby continues to grow you will find yourself with aches and pains from the pressure. These include back pain, pelvic pain, pain in your sides or ribs, pain in the ass, pain in the boobs, pain in the head, neck, shoulders, spleen, and prehensile tail. (Wait, you don't have one of those? Slackass. All good mothers grow prehensile tails to carry their young). The best thing to do when this happens is to change your position or move around for a little bit. Often, your movement is enough to cause baby to move and therefore release the pressure and relieve the pain. If that doesn't work, whine to your mom. Cry when she reassures you that she never experienced any such misery in any of her pregnancies.
Your fundal height (or distance from the swollen reaches of your formerly dainty lady parts to the upper stretches of your baby sack) has reached approximately 2 to 2 1/2 inches above your navel, which is now so disgusting, it burned the dirty foreigner's retinas last time he looked at it. In other words, you are a fat, miserable pig, and it's only going to get worse. Enjoy the miracle of life!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Yesterday GJ and hubby celebrated their 8th anniversary. And by celebrate GJ means that we both forgot about it until MDH called to wish GJ a happy anniversary. Why? Oh you know...the sick, coughing, hacking, snotting, non sleeping children in our house. When GJ's kids are sick everything else goes on the back burner. So here is the GJ with hubby on their wedding day. GJ had a double chin even then in all her thinness. So GJ spent the day laying on the living room floor and moaning (GJ is also sick) and calling hubby to make him come home. Now hubby is sick, A is back at school, and B is going to the doctor. GJ is just drinking Mountain Dew. Eight years GJ has been married to this red headed man. Wow. Three different cities and two different states. Crazy. Who knew? And that red headed man gets better every year. Better hubby, better dad (if possible), better son, better brother...just goodness.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Today, for example, a foreign associate with whom Bad Joo has heretofore enjoyed a nice phone and e-mail working relationship insisted upon REPEATEDLY ordering her to oil her taint. And to avoid an episiotomy. The conversation went a little something like this:
BJ: Thanks again. It's a pleasure working with you on work-related, non-crotch or perineum related matters.
FA: OIL YOUR TAINT!
BJ: I beg your ever-loving pardon?
FA: I said, "oil your taint." If you don't, you'll be sorry. And don't get an episiotomy. You have to oil your taint to avoid it. And don't count on an epidural either.
BJ: Um, okay. Thanks.
FA: Yup, gotta oil your taint.
FA: Oil your taint.
BJ: Well, you're a busy gal, I'm a busy gal. I should let you go.
FA: Oil your taint.
BJ: Buh bye now.
FA: (liltingly) Oil your taint.
BJ: Um, I've gotta go.
FA: Oh, me too. I have yoga.
BJ: Oh, well have fun!
FA: Oil your taint!
This woman has never had children but knows a cousin's buddy's friend who just gave birth and had to have an episiotomy. Failure to oil the taint. A tragic tale.
A TRAGIC TALE TO WHICH BAD JOO WOULD PREFER SHE NOT BE PRIVY.
So, unless you are a medical doctor whom Bad Joo is paying to offer advice, please do not offer her advice about her taint. Other areas in which Bad Joo is not currently accepting advice from laypersons include but are not limited to:
headaches and migraines
the size of her motherfucking belly
the pros and cons of pain relief during labor
and the GNP.
Thank you. And God Bless America.
Friday, September 11, 2009
http://andyandjenna.com/blog/?p=59 . And take special note of the adorable ass photos in the ad.
THAT IS ALL.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I UNDERSTAND YOU, A.
That is all.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
BJ did take off for la la france-in-your-pants for an extended stay, leaving GJ and co. without much to do.
BJ did also fail to remember to bring her camera back from Surrenderland, thereby finding herself without any photos to post on this here blog,
which would've been okay, except that BJ also somehow entrusted the ultrasound photo disc to THE DIRTY FOREIGNER, who may or may not have burned some counterfeit war game on it, and there are therefore no photos of the penis-ridden fetus hereon.
So, Bad Joo has jack shit. And she can't tile. Nor can she sew. Not even w/ curse words and twenty hours of pipsqueakless house. Good Joo, you are the epitome of woman. Hear you motherfecking roar. Post some more photos of that adorable fambly of yours.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Anywho...the skirt finally got finished and from a distance is pretty hot. Upon closer inspection a reader might note that at one point GJ sewed the hem to the waistband in the smallest stitch possible. This to the non sewers means it was a complete and total bitch to get out. Other things GJ has been doing are retaining 3 vases from IKEA that she was supposed to buy and give to Guest Krunk's ho. Alas...they are too cute and GJ is keeping them. Oh and also...A had her first day of school today.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
NO ONE knows how hard it was for Good Joo to not punt Gonna into the pool during her leisurely drink. Good Joo was writhing on the deck. Convulsing. Good Joo almost had to call Animal Cops Fart Wayne on herself. Oh Gonna...
Good Joo has also been working on some sewing projects. Gearing up for the birth of the dirty, foreigner baby who GJ will only love if he is wearing cute clothes. And by cute clothes GJ means trousers trimmed in ball fringe. Everything is better with a ball fringe on it...
Granted B cannot sit and or move in this skirt, it is still pretty damn cute. Good Joo made it today in 15 minutes from a piece of scrap material. What did GJ originally use that cute fabric for? Well...a skirt for A. Good Joo uses the term "skirt" loosely. It is more like a giant rectangle that goes all the way to the floor. Very Pentecostal. Very not hot. There is no pic of that skirt.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Bad Joo, who has heretofore sworn to buy used everything this baby should require (apart from breast milk), is now lusting over a crib. Even Blogger knows it's wrong, for Blogger is not allowing BJ to import a photo of the sexy mofo of a crib. Interested Internettes may view it here: http://www.pacificrimwoodworking.com/crib.aspx . It's the radius crib. le sigh.
Bad Joo knows that C will spend exactly five minutes of his or her life in the crib, and that said crib will really serve as a glorified cat bed from which BJ will constantly be evicting dirty pussies, but this does not change BJ's desire. BJ knows that the crib is a monumental waste of le cash, but this does not change BJ's desire.
BJ wants the Radius. BJ loves the Radius and everything about it. BJ especially loves its Jap inspired cap. BJ wants to sleep in the Radius and do dirty things to it. BJ would not even mind birthing a penis, if it meant she could have the Radius. again with le sigh.
Please, seasoned mothers out there, share your wisdom about why and how BJ should forget about le crib trop sexy. Or send cold, hard cash to:
c/o The Dirty Foreigner
555 Midwestern Street
Midwest, MW 91919
Thursday, July 23, 2009
This is a picture of George W. It is sitting on GJ's table. Why? It was a hostess gift from last night's dinner. When GJ opened it she squealed with delight. Actually GJ made fake barfing, fainting, dying sounds and motions and then laughed hysterically. GJ's new BFF in the Fart is a lover of the Bush and also Vera Bradley. Gag with GJ now. GJ has even accused her of having a Vera Bradley bag with a Sarah Palin picture on it. It's that bad. But dude...this shit is funny. The picture is autographed and reads:
Dear Good Joo-
Thank you for your support. With your help we can make America stronger, safer, and more prosperous.
Laura Bush and George Bush.
GJ appreciates a republican with a good sense of humor.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
That's right. Dood. Although a little early, C got an unexpected ultrasound this week when he? refused to sit still so the OB could check the heartrate. In said ultrasound, the OB thought she saw a penis. Now, while this glimpse of an Eiffelwang is not 100% certain, it is sufficiently possible for this Joo to have head spinningly vomited all over her burgeoning belly, the OB, some passers-by on their way to a pregnant person convention, and the ultrasound machine.
Bad Joo was expecting a girl. Bad Joo has no idea how she is going to take care of a penis. She barely knows what to do with the dirty foreigner's penis, and her job is not to keep that one clean.
This Joo should not be surprised, however. Good Joo had girls, and it therefore stands to reason that Bad Joo should have a boy. Still, Bad Joo intends to make the best of this by causing C to be a screaming Mary. To this end, BJ has decided to name C "Valentine Madonna Cher Sparkle Joo." Valentine Madonna Cher Sparkle Joo will be enrolled in voice lessons, ballet, and cub scouts before age 2. VMCSJ will learn to love it. And VMCSJ will wear all his cousins' clothing. Including B's leg warmers. And love it.
Any additional suggestions for ensuring the queeritude of this fetus are welcome.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Some Midwestern Town
Monday, July 13, 2009
Let's not beat around the bush...B has had a shitty day so GJ let her eat a marshmallow. Just because GJ let her fall out of the neighbor's toy car and split her head open does not mean that GJ is a bad momma. Eminem's momma is a bad momma. Just because GJ is making her wear Target brand diapers during the day does not make her a bad momma. So what that they leak pee all over. Just because GJ is spending all of B's 1st birthday money on A's tuition for next year does not make her a bad momma. With the cost of the tuition she can just dream about what a kick ass 1st bday it was going to be. Poor B. Being the second sucks sometimes.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
In celebration of BJ's achievement of reaching week 14, BJ has artfully drawn the above self portrait for all of youse. This portrait was drawn shortly after the third person in one day asked BJ if she was pregnant with twins. The correct response, of course, to BJ's reply of "no" is not, and this may shock all of you, "are you sure." Bad Joo is perty damn near ready to start suffocating people who ask this particular follow up question with her resplendent arm fat.
Those who know BJ in the flesh will immediately note that this drawing is somewhat flawed in that BJ's legs are not this long.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Since Bad Joo is clearly meant to be pregnant, her body has, at 13 weeks, swollen to size AREYOUFUCKINGKIDDINGME (petite)? This has, as you Internettes might imagine, lead to many the hilarious exchange.
Case in point:
Bad Joo gave up on fitting into her tiny tees this week and decided to wear a maternity shirt to work. THIS WAS A BAD, A BAD YOU KNOW IT SHAMON DECISION. For immediately upon her arrival at work, the following occurred:
BAD JOO'S BOSS: Hello, Chubby!
Internettes, you do not need to know how a pregnant Joo reacts to being called chubby. Bad Joo does not want you to develop chronic nightmares or begin torturing animals in your angst and despair. Suffice it to say that there are bits of vocal chords strewn about many a historic building throughout Bible Belt City, and Bad Joo's Boss has retired. And Bad Joo has decided 'tis better to have one's melon-like belly hang from the bottom of a tiny tee than to eviscerate one's boss following a chubbers comment.
Watch for more hilarity as we follow Bad Joo down the long, long, interminably long road to C's arrival. God Save Us.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
These Joos promise to resume blogging w/ a vengeance.
RIP Michael Jackson.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
CHORUS: Shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me, come on girl shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me
A: Shake that recipe, shake that recipe, come on girl shake that recipe, shake that recipe
Only another indication that A is the shit and all other kids suck.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
A: When you die you go to "Kevin". He makes you better and then sends you back.
GJ: Who told you that?
GJ: Kevin sounds like a nice dude.
This after weeks of re-enacting the crucifixion. All animals in our house had to die, go to a cave and come out three days later. GJ might be rethinking this whole "I want A to make her own decisions about everything". That's what the GJ gets for letting A to church with her best friend on Easter.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
SIDE NOTE...the GJ loves a comma whether it belongs or not. Like it. GJ may have also missed a few. Like that too.
And being 34.
This Joo is hoping Deanne and her teammates will perform some inspirational song and dance numbers a la Up With People http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOd-BT2N-18 . Click on it. Do it.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Deanne is still doing well. She's a fighter and is not likely to relinquish her comfortable residence on Bad Joo's face despite numerous applications of benzoyl peroxide, salicylic acid, Retin-A, toothpaste, very small rocks, breakfast cereals, and Raid®. However, her insistance that BJ and others sing her "How Great Thou Art" as a lullaby each night is getting old.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
*Whac-A-Mole® is a registered trademark of Mattel, Inc. The Two Joos are not affiliated or endorsed in any way shape or form by Mattel, Inc. or any of its related companies.
Now, ordinarily, this Joo would not bother the internettes with anything so trivial as a blemish, but this blemish is no ordinary pimple. This is the Patriot Act of acne. It is so far reaching, it's causing swelling and discomfort as far as the sinus cavities. It is...
It occurs to this Joo that perhaps Das Zit is actually a retained conjoined twin, shifted to the surface through some plate tectonics-like freak of stress. Perhaps the Joos should name this monstrosity. Perhaps she should call it, "Deanne."
Please, internettes, pray for Bad Joo and pray for her affliction, Deanne.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
One of the Stupid Joo Tricks that has been keeping this Joo from her Internettes as of late is the arrival of the Son of Sam, scratch that, Son of Dirty Foreigner. A few times a year, Bad Joo and her Dirty Husband bus his spawn out of the land of stinky cheese and surrender pups and into the land of Freedom and water boarding. These visits give Bad Joo a magical mystery taste of parenthood, without the worry of losing a security deposit on a real child. Since Bad Joo has been working-like-a-purposefully-bred-hybrid-of-two-beasts-of-burden-but-she's-too-tired-to-come-up-with-a-hilarious-combination-of-any-two-such-beasts, she decided to take a few days off to entertain the tadpole.
Bad Joo would like to be one of you. Really she would. She would like to be adept at keeping house, teaching thoughtful lessons about life, and preparing well-balanced, organic, locally grown meals, but the truth of the matter is, she sucks limp donkey kong. It's true. This Joo is always excited to see the stinky tadpole, but ultimately realizes at the end of each sejour that there is a reason she has dogs instead of kids. She is inept.
The tadpole is at an age at which he from time to time collapses in a pool of tears for no apparent reason. Or, if there is a reason, the pool of tears is disproportionately deep in relation to the cause for its creation. This Joo believes you Internettes refer to this as the "tween years." This Joo refers to it as "What the fuck?" So, the other day, the tadpole found to his great dismay that his portable gaming device had erased his saved games. Disaster. Armageddon sans Rapture. Hell.
Bad Joo understands this sort of thing, for she played Below the Root (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Below_the_Root) like a junkie in the basement of the Bad Joo childhood home. She played it for so long, she ended up sitting in her own urine for DAYS (a la The Secretary, but minus the wedding gown and BDSM), she tells you, DAYS whilst the epic played on. It was fantastic. And so, this Joo attempted to console the tadpole upon learning of the devastating news by saying something comforting.
What Bad Joo Attempted to Say (and keep in mind, we're consoling in French here, team): It's okay, tadpole. I know it hurts now, and you want to drown your hurt in Morrissey, clove cigarettes, and black, black coffee, but you will remember the fun you had playing those games, and you will create and save new games, and it will be fanfuckingtastic.
What Bad Joo Actually Said: It's okay, tadpole. It' s just a game. You can play more.
In response to this fat fecking turd of a consolation, the tadpole just looked at This Joo as if to say, "How could my father ever put it in someone so callous?"
This Joo is inept, m'dears.
And so, this Joo recalls a recent conversation with a new friend in which she said something along the lines of, "I think I might want to have a BAYBEE some day." Friend, I take that back. Please call CPS prophylactically.
GJ hubby: Sugar what's wrong?
GJ: I just get really tired this time of day
GJ hubby: Why don't you make a pot of coffee like yesterday and then not drink it?
GJ: Why don't you eff off
GJ hubby: Sugar...you're such a sweet meat
One of the things GJ loves so much about the hubby is his clear love for her even though she is a foul mouthed ass most of the time. Until someone by the name of Bedazzle stops using her razor sharp tooth to cut GJ's nipples off, GJ does not expect to become more pleasant anytime soon.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Because the Joos come from a broken home, they spent summers and special ski season bonding time with the father of the Joo clan, Father Chris (a.k.a. The Nice Priest who sends Christmas gifts sometimes). As time progressed, Father Chris fathered a son with a brand spankin' new wife, and eventually, that son joined the Joos on their fatherly visits.
On one such occasion, when the Little Half Joo Son was five or so, the Joos were delighted to discover that he could be manipulated with physical force and emotional abuse. The Joos therefore threatened the poor Little Half Joo Son with "BEAT DOWN" every time he whined or displeased them in any way.* This was the source of much hilarity to the Joos, as you Internettes might imagine.
After one particularly long day on the slopes, TLHJS decided to unwind on the walk home by chewing on a ballpoint pen. Perhaps it was the constant beating down, or the fact that his daughters verily had vomited all over God's Green Ski Slopes, but this particular act of LHJS threw Father Chris into a frenzy (Note the clean language used by Father Chris in times of turmoil. He must be so ashamed of his offspring).
The scene: the foothills at Vail. A family is returning to their car after a long day of skiing.
FC: JUDAS PRIEST. For the love of Cripes. LHJS, put that down. Don't eat that.
FC: Because it's poison, for Cripe's sake. You'll die.
LJHS continues to gnaw on end of pen.
FC: GOL DARN IT, NOW, STOP IT. YOU'RE GOING TO DIE
FC forcefully pushes pen out o' the mouth of LJHS.
FC: If you're going to eat that, you might as well just die. It's poison.
LHJS picks the pen up. FC pushes both the pen and LHJS to the ground. LJHS attempts to rise from fallen position in snow. Bad Joo and Good Joo look on from now very far away, pee slowly spreading through the snow around them, so heartily are they laughing at the ridiculous spectacle.
FC: Just lay down. You're dead. You died. You're dead.
And so, Internettes, the Joos can confirm through experience that age-old addage: The family that skis together dies together.
*As used herein, the phrase "BEAT DOWN" shall mean "to hold down and pretend to punch, kick, and mutilate a small child whilst hollering, 'beat down' and cackling gleefully."
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
You are no longer considered to be Amish if you have the following in your cart at Meijer:
-Mountain Dew (although GJ knows the weakness...she knows it)
-Pampers or Huggies
And you are no longer considered to be Amish if you are standing on the roof next door to GJ swearing into a cell phone.